Magic in the Air
by Book girl fan
Summary: Benjamin January Mysteries, HP verse. It's Christmastime in London, 1967, and the Januarys are throwing a party.


January mounted the steps to the old wooden house, Hannibal following behind. The party had already started, as he had known it would, and even through the curtained windows he could see the coloured flashes of light that meant spells were in the air.

He reached for his wand, but the door opened before he could retrieve it, music and laughter spilling out into the night air around the figure silhouetted in the doorway. "You're late."

Rose's soft smile was enough to show January that she meant the words only in jest. Love for her rushed up beneath his skin, bringing an ache to hold her and feel her gawky yet loveable form in his arms. He pulled her into a kiss, then drew back, cradling her close until their breaths mingled visibly in the coolness of the night. "I know. Minou was very excited to tell me about the new fashion of robes, and how delighted she was to be at home and not at Hogwarts, where she would have to wear boring school robes instead of her 'absolutely delightful' new ones that 'go so well' with the earrings Henri has bought her."

Rose laughed, recognising Dominique's particular kind of enthusiasm. As a fifth year Slytherin, Minou was very conscious of looks and how important it was to attract a pureblooded husband to keep her safe from the rising resentment against those who were not pureblooded. Even before rumours had started of a Dark Lord preaching hate against people who were not of pureblood ancestry, being related to Muggles had still meant a life of prejudice and whispered remarks. Dominique, having a pureblood father, was considered more worthy of having magic than January, the son of their Muggleborn mother's first marriage to a Muggle, but still neither would be considered as worthy as a pureblood. "I'm sure Minou planned the robes for that very purpose."

"I'm sure she did," January agreed, and kissed his wife again.

She leaned into him, looking up at him with her beautiful green-grey eyes clear through the lenses of her spectacles. In the softest voice, barely audible, she whispered to him, "Are you going to keep me here all night?" In a slightly louder voice she continued, "Because I think Hannibal will freeze."

"As one must, without the fires of love to warm them," Hannibal nodded sagely. His shivering, which had started as soon as they had Apparated outside the house, was now strong enough that he looked near to falling over. He had conjured a small flame in his hands to warm them, but it did not seem to be having much effect.

"One more kiss." January drew his wand, summoning a sprig of mistletoe to settle on the doorframe over their heads. "In the spirit of the season." Leaning close, he kissed her once more, slow and smooth like honey, before regretfully drawing away again, leaving only his hand clasped in hers.

Hannibal climbed up the stairs behind him, taking Rose's other hand in his and bestowing a kiss upon it. "_A thousand kisses buys my heart from me_, yet were they sweet as yours, it would take but one, Athene."

"Then it shall be one worth taking," Rose said most seriously, and, letting go of January's hand, dipped the fiddler backwards with deceptively strong arms before kissing him lightly on the cheek and bringing him back upright. Quite a feat, considering they were of a height.

"I think you've actually made him speechless!" January laughed, taking Rose's hand in his again. With a companionable arm around Hannibal's shoulder, he pulled all three of them inside into the warmth of the party, the door closing behind them and banishing the winter chill.

Immediately they were greeted by the chaos and laughter of a mixed magic party, so different from the elegant and reserved pureblood affairs. The sound of Christmas crackers exploding could be heard throughout the room, and golden sparkles rained softly from the ceiling, disappearing as soon as they hit the floor below. The guests themselves were dressed in anything from wizarding robes to suits and dresses to casual jumpers and jeans, all mixed together without any heed to blood divides. Here there were no divisions between Muggleborn or halfblood, wizard or Muggle, but simply a celebration of the wonders of Christmastime.

"Uncle Ben! Mama, Uncle Ben's here!" January's nephew Gabriel shouted, racing across the room towards him, followed by his younger siblings.

January met them with an embrace, lifting Gabriel off his feet before putting him back down and doing the same with the other two. "You'll be too big for that soon, Gabe."

Gabriel puffed up his chest proudly. "I'll be big enough for Hogwarts next year."

January exchanged a glance with his sister Olympe, coming up behind Gabe. Yes, Gabriel would be old enough for Hogwarts next year, but it wasn't necessarily the safest place anymore for a child with three Muggle grandparents, and even that was only if Olympe would allow him to go. She herself hadn't been to Hogwarts, having run away to learn magic from the legendary Marie Laveau before she could be sent to school, and still didn't own a wand. The few times he had seen her do magic, rather than simply using the Muggle methods they'd both grown up with, it had been with her own two hands.

"Go find your uncle some food," Olympe told Gabe, shooing him off. He ran off towards the kitchen, the littler ones trailing after him.

January knew better than to try resuming the conversation. Olympe would decide as she would, and wouldn't appreciate his interference. Instead, he asked, "Where's Zizi-Marie tonight?" Zizi-Marie, his oldest niece, had shown no signs of magic and was instead planning on following her father into a career as a carpenter.

Olympe gave him a look, but accepted the change in conversation. "Off at a party with some of her school friends. One of the girls has one of those new colour televisions, and Zizi-Marie had to see it."

"I'm sure Rose will too once she hears about it." Rose, unlike most who grew up in the wizarding world, was endlessly fascinated with the Muggle world and its discoveries, particularly science. Their first date had been to a Muggle library.

"Colour television?" Rose asked, coming back to their conversation with two mugs of Butterbeer in hand. January took his, sipping it gratefully as it dispelled the last of the chill from outside. "How does it work? How do they manage to make the colour come through? Are they using a different kind of camera, or different television screens?"

Olympe rolled her eyes, a gesture oddly reminiscent of their mother, who Olympe had not willingly spoken to in decades. "Now how would I know that when I haven't ever even seen one? Ask Zizi-Marie tomorrow, she might know."

"I'm sure she'll tell you everything she can," January agreed. "But for now, I'd like to dance with my wife." He took Rose's empty mug from her hand, and put them both down on a nearby table. "If you'll excuse us, Olympe?" Olympe waved them away, and January took Rose's hand, leading her over to the makeshift dance floor.

Mixed parties, unlike pureblood parties, were not held in ballrooms with hired or house-elf players (depending on the wealth of the household) to play songs on request. Instead, music came from a Muggle record player, playing Muggle and wizarding music throughout the night, and requests came from dancers shouting out to whoever was nearest the record player, suggesting new songs for them to pick. Even in the short time since January had arrived at the party he had heard a mix of hits from Muggle and wizard bands alike, each received with equally raucous enthusiasm. The dance floor that he was now leading Rose onto was just their living room, cleared of furniture, and with other young couples swaying along to the crooning love song currently playing.

Once on the floor, they moved closer together, swaying back and forth to the music. January leant down and buried his nose in Rose's soft hair, enjoying the sweet smell of her. "Are you having a good Christmas?" he whispered.

"I am." They swayed a few more moments in silence, then Rose spoke again. "Did you see Artois tonight?"

"He was at the party, with Veryl." Artois St. Chinian was one of the children Rose tutored over the summer holidays, teaching them about Muggle concepts so if they wanted, they could someday attend a Muggle university. Artois was one of Rose's favourites, as he shared her passion for science and language, and January had more than once found them huddled over the kitchen table discussing the etymology of a spell. Veryl, Artois' uncle, had employed Rose as Artois' tutor against the rest of the family's wishes, but as none of the three concerned had particularly cared, the family was mostly satisfied with ignoring them. "He looked happy. I think he's looking forward to seeing you tomorrow."

"I'm looking forward to it too." Rose moved her head against his shoulder, her soft curls tickling his neck. "It's different, having him away for so long." Artois had just started his first year in Hogwarts as a proud Ravenclaw.

January held her closer, wishing to offer as much comfort as he could. He too was fond of Artois, and knew Rose regarded him as more of a younger brother than a student. "Gabe's going to be old enough next year too. They grow up so fast, don't they?"

"I suppose ours will too."

January smiled at the thought. A child, their child, a new member of their little family who they would raise together. Boy or girl, magic or Muggle, it wouldn't matter; he would love them regardless. Even in the current darkness, the thought of growing their little family was so strong a hope as to be almost an ache inside him.

"I meant to wait until Christmas, but I think Olympe already knows."

January frowned, distracted by the sudden change in conversation. "Knows what?"

"Your Christmas gift." Rose pulled away to look up at him with her grey eyes, first matter-of-fact, then softening as she realised his confusion. "We're going to have a child."

Joy rose within him, nearly blinding in its intensity. He barely noticed that they had stopped swaying. "You're sure?" he asked breathlessly.

Rose nodded.

"How far along are you?"

"About six weeks."

January had no words, could only stare at her – his beautiful, brilliant, pregnant wife. Even in the sparks and chattering going on around them, the music that was still playing in the background, none of them could distract him from the woman in front of him who he loved with the whole of his heart. "Have I told you recently how much I love you?"

"You have," Rose told him, leaning towards him to rest her head on his chest, resuming their gentle swaying. "But I could always stand to hear it again."

"I love you, my nightingale." He rested his chin on her head, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. "_If I could write the beauty of your eyes/and with fresh numbers number all your graces/The age to come would say this poet lies/such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces_."

"_But were some child of ours alive at that time_," Rose paraphrased the finishing couplet, "_We should live twice, in it, and in your rhyme_."

They continued to rock gently back and forth, heedless of the changing music and the crowds around them. In that moment, the two of them existed in their own private world of joy.

A jolt from one of the passing dancers broke the moment, taking them both back to the real world of the party. January was momentarily annoyed at the interruption, but could not hold onto it in the face of his still all encompassing joy. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to Rose's lips, whispering, "We'll have to celebrate later, once all our guests are gone."

"Later," Rose agreed. "We wouldn't want to disappear from our own party."

"Uncle Ben!"

January turned towards Gabriel, no longer being followed by his younger siblings, but with a plate of food in hand. "I got some food for you. I didn't mean to take so long, but Molly had a new kind of pastry on her pie that she said she'd show me how to make, 'cept she's going back to Hogwarts after the holidays so I asked if she could tell me now. It's really good." He grinned a little guiltily, a few crumbs clinging to his lips attesting to the truth of his words.

January took the plate of food, which did indeed contain a slice of a very delicious looking pie along with several other items, and moved off the dance floor towards the wall, Rose following alongside. Gabriel, his duty now done, disappeared back into the crowd. January picked up a deviled egg and handed it to Rose, knowing them to be her favourite. She accepted it gladly, pressing a kiss to his cheek before popping it into her mouth.

"Cora's just arrived," she said. Rose, though nowhere near January's own formidable height, was still taller than many of the people there, and could therefore easily see through the crowds to the door. "I'll go greet her." January made to follow her, but she shook her head. "You eat. It's still a long time before I'll need help crossing a room." With a flash of her quicksilver smile, she left.

January settled against the wall, plate in hand, and began to dig in. He had been too busy preparing for the parties, both the pureblood one and his own, to eat lunch, and by now it was getting close to midnight without him having eaten a thing. The pie, as Gabe had promised, was delicious, and for several moments he ignored the party just to enjoy the flavours.

His enjoyment was disturbed by a tall figure coming to lean against the wall beside him, a figure he recognised as his friend Shaw. "Evenin', M'sieu January."

"Good evening, Mr Shaw." Despite considering the man a friend, January remained on his guard. Abishag Shaw was part of the Ministry's Muggle Relations division, a difficult position in these divisive times. If Shaw thought that any of them were unduly interested in Muggle affairs, he would be duty-bound to report it to his superiors, who would not look kindly upon such an interest from an already mixed family. It would be even worse if they suspected the truth, that Rose and January were part of the efforts to educate the families of Muggleborns about the magical world their children were entering. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight."

"Officially 'm here as a kind of guard against Muggles noticin' what's going on, seein' as you live in a Muggle neighbourhood an' all."

"And unofficially?"

"Unofficially, your wife invited me, and she's a hard lady to say no to."

January couldn't help but smile at that. "She is, at that." He offered the plate to Shaw. "Would you like some?"

Shaw waved the plate away. "No need, Maestro, your wife made sure I already et."

January returned for his meal, silence resting heavily between the two men. January had helped Shaw with previous cases involving Muggles caught up in wizarding affairs, but had rarely interacted with him in a social setting. January was very aware of the Muggles who had come to the party in company with their wizarding family members, and how such an attitude would not be approved by the Ministry.

"It does seem to me," Shaw said, breaking the silence between them, "that someone might have accidentally slipped some Confusion Concoction into some people's drinks tonight."

"Really?" January asked, careful to keep his voice neutral. As far as he knew, nothing of the sort had happened, so he was very curious to see where this might be going.

"Sure enough, Maestro. And so, if'n I saw anyone tonight who didn't look quite familiar with the wizarding way of doing things, that's what would be the reason. And a potion accident has no need to come to the attention of anyone at the Ministry."

The tension left January's muscles so quickly it was almost painful. "Of course," he agreed. "That sounds quite reasonable." With that fear abated, his previous joy was quick to return, and he began to talk with Shaw about curious potion accidents they'd each seen through the course of their work.

It was only when he saw Cora, some minutes later, that he realised how long it had been since he'd seen Rose.

"Hannibal," he called as he saw his friend in the crowd nearby, "Have you seen Rose?"

"_O beautiful, royal Rose/O Rose, so fair and sweet_! I've seen her at this very party, _amicus meus_," Hannibal said, dark eyes bright with good humour. "In fact, I believe I've seen her just now, talking with one of the Weasleys."

January said a hasty thank you to Hannibal as his friend slipped off, eyes already searching the crowd for any hint of bright orange hair. Finally, he saw Rose across the room talking to young Arthur Weasley, who shared her passion for Muggle inventions. Inwardly he thrilled again, unable to believe that their child - their child - was growing inside her right now. Grin growing across his face, he leapt to his feet, shouting, "A toast!"

All eyes turned to him, the chatter growing momentarily quieter.

"To friends-"

His eye caught on Hannibal, reappearing from the kitchen with a glass of something in hand, and Shaw standing against the wall, carefully not noticing the young couple clearly marvelling at one of the moving pictures on the shelf -

"-family-"

Olympe, smiling in a way she never had as a child, was holding her youngest son while Paul corralled the older two away from the Christmas tree, all three of them laughing madly -

"-my beautiful wife-"

Rose had paused her conversation and was looking at him, her spectacles glinting in the light. It was too far to know for sure, but he thought he saw her lips form the words 'and my husband' -

"-and a year of happiness for all!"

A cheer rose around the room. Those with wands raised them high, while those without raised a glass, all faces beaming with the bright happiness of the season. Looking around at everyone gathered there, magic and Muggle alike, January truly felt that despite the rising darkness, this year would be his family's best yet.


End file.
